


Train To Somewhere

by LorenOlson



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: British Actor RPF - Freeform, Day dreams, Fluff, Gen, I Dreampt It So I Wrote It Down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 13:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11807136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LorenOlson/pseuds/LorenOlson
Summary: You meet Tom one fateful day riding on a train to wherever you happened to be going. It was all a hazy blur, you ended up in each other's arms, until you realize you are lucid in a dream state.Yes, I understand this has been done a thousand times and it is more cliched than major character death, but it's short and sweet and might just make you smile.





	Train To Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> I dreamt this one night and I wrote it down, but it was of course much stranger in the actual dream and may or may not have contained tractor rides in a random farm in Pennsylvania and Dean Winchester pissed off at a Rugaru. But it was a very pleasant dream nonetheless, and it turned out to be more of a daydream in the end than anything else. Reader is gender non-specific, Tom is adorable as always, and it's a short little drabble of a fic that I am proud to call my own.
> 
> Also I wrote part of this when I was a year younger and less experienced, so the quality might be a little blotchy, please forgive my silly rambling :)

You are on a train, making your way down the border of the coastline to reach your final destination. You have been traveling long and far, and you wish to rest your weary head. You didn't get much sleep last night, the bed in your hotel room had a strange bump in it, and either you rolled to one side, or your back felt a bit like it was being prodded by the sharp edge of a wooden tabletop. But these wood and slightly cushioned seats do little for your comfort either as you try to contort yourself in a way that you could maybe prop your head up by your hand and get a little more sleep than the few hours you got the previous night.

The train slows to a stop to let more people in, and you succeed, but only slightly, and you manage to prop yourself up, to a point at which you could almost rest... You check around the cabin, and you rest your head on your hand, your eyes fluttering shut, to the point where you just nearly drift off... And you nearly do, until you hear a voice. THAT voice. HIS voice.  
You sit straight as a ramrod, your eyes flashing open, all sleepiness leaving you, your gaze darting back and forth around the cabin, you KNEW it was him, it had to be! You thought that maybe someone could have turned on a YouTube video or an interview or a SoundCloud audio of him reading Shakespeare, something artificial, but it sounded far too real, you had to know if-

And then you see him. Standing there, smiling at one of the attendants. Standing just inside the train. His thin lips curled into an elegant smile. He is as tall and handsome as you imagined he would be, maybe just a little more than you imagined, actually. His baby blue eyes, his sharp jawline, his brown, slightly curled hair, his formal, yet casual clothes, a grey coat over a white button up... And God he's gorgeous...  
And you get that feeling in the pit of your stomach, as if you're going to be sick, but your cheeks lose all their color and your chest gets all fluttery. You feel like you're going to throw up. You had _dreamed_ of meeting him, of _speaking to him_ -

Then you realize he is alone. And your seat is the closest empty seat from the door. If nothing happened to change that fact, then he would be sitting next to you. You think you are going to faint. He looks around, his eyes falling on the seat next to you. He sighs in relief, maybe for not having to search very far to find a seat, and he heads over, until he notices you, staring at him. You gasp as his gaze meets yours and those beautiful blue eyes are focused on you.

"Oh-" he says, looking back to the seat,  
"I'm sorry... May I-?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." You say, thankful you said something relatively coherent. He smiles at you, as he walks forward, and sits down next to you.

"Thanks," he remarks, setting down his bag on the floor by his feet.  
And as he is doing so, you can't help but notice. His clothes are offset, as if he had just thrown them on, and his hair isn't quite straight either, his brush probably being quickly raked through his short, brown locks, in a feeble attempt to tame his curls, obviously having not succeeded as well as he had hoped. He has dark circles under his eyes, and you realize that he is probably as tired as you are. He probably had a rushed morning, you know the look all too well.

"Umm..." You hear him say, and you realize he is staring back at you, a nervous expression on his face.  
Your face turned red as a tomato in three seconds flat, realizing he caught you awkwardly staring at him, and you stumble over your words,  
"Oh god, I'm sorry- I- I'm just... God... I'm just..."  
Come on, come on, say SOMETHING right, anything!

"I'm a fan of your work. I didn't mean to stare, really- I just didn't expect to meet you here-"

"Oh!" He said, as he started laughing.

"I thought I had something on my face, or there was a huge stain in my jacket- thank god..."

You couldn't help but laugh too as the blush started getting even worse, and you put your hands to your face. He noticed, and the typical gentleman that he was, he began apologizing.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to embarrass you. I was just a little embarrassed myself... I didn't know if I looked like a complete idiot!"

Ugh. Relatable.  
You looked back up to him, still laughing, as he was smiling at you.

"Well, that was quite an interesting start! We haven't properly met yet, have we? Hi," he said, extending his hand to you, "I'm Tom."

You regained your composure, smiling back at him,  
"Hi Tom. It really is nice to meet you."

 

You can't remember how it happened. You can't really even remember your own name. Almost all the other passengers got off of the train car, since they were mostly people going from one certain place to another certain place, so once the train reached that stop, they all mostly left. So now, the both of you were alone. Together.

And here you were, sitting in between Tom's legs, facing forward, as his arms were wrapped tightly around you. His face was resting in the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. And yours were too, as you were leaning comfortably against him, the both of you finding the perfect balance of leaning against the other, so you wouldn't have to rest in those awful wooden seats. One of your hands was on his thigh, and your other arm was resting at your side. You hummed in content, and he smiled, pressing a kiss into your neck.

You can't remember how that happened. All you remember talking about was the fact that you both had a rushed morning, and the fact that he said he thought you were attractive. You believed 'gorgeous' was his choice word for it. The rest was all a blur.

You come to a sudden realization of the strangeness of the whole situation. Your eyes aren't quite focusing, you're pseudo-conscious, your conciousness not resting in you but floating somewhere above your head, your body and sensations anchored where you'd think they were supposed to be, only able to form disconnected thoughts and run off sentences that seem to end half way through forming them. Everything is floaty, almost, as you try to focus, you realize you can't feel the fabric of your clothes against your skin, nor do you feel bare, either. It'a just all a warm, unfocused blur.

You're dreaming. This is a dream. But you're still lucid, thankfully. But, coming to this realization, you feel yourself drifting awake. You clutch tightly to the pleasant dream, making your mind race with thoughts about your surroundings, anchoring yourself further into this reality. You just hope your alarm doesn't go off soon.  
The walls of the train were cream colored, the floor was burgundy colored, there were trees outside the windows...

Just then you felt him nuzzle his head against your neck, his nose and lips brushing against your skin. Then you think to yourself,  
'Why am I trying to think about my surroundings to keep me asleep when I could just be thinking of him?'

Too bad it was a dream though, you knew it had to end at some point, but hey, at least this was happening. But wait, what exactly WAS happening? Oh yeah. You were cuddling with your idol on a train that went to nowhere. Sort of. You rationalized as much as you could in a dream that if it *was* a dream, then you were going to make the best of it. After all, your smaller body fit perfectly against his, and his long arms fit nicely around you, and his warm embrace did feel quite nice. So you relaxed, smiling in your hazy, dreamlike state as his grip tightened the slightest bit, reassuring you that he was there. You turned your head upward, and as his gaze met yours, he smiled tenderly down at you. And he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips.

"Thanks Tom."

"No problem love."

You fell against him, sighing in content. And you felt a wave of tiredness wash over you. And you felt strangely warm, even though the air conditioning in the train was on cold, you felt sweet warmth in his arms.

And you asked him,  
"Hey, do you mind if I fall asleep?"

He smiled, rubbing your sides with his hands,  
"No. Not at all. Go on, I'll protect you."

You smiled and closed your eyes, letting your tiredness take you. You knew you'd probably wake up, but you didn't care. You were happy in his arms, and that was all that mattered. Well, at least you could hope the dream was reoccurring.  
Thank god it was.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for sticking around to see the end of this cringy, cliched little work, I really hope you liked it! And, as it is a less than mandatory habit of mine to say, if you liked it, consider leaving a kudos or a comment, containing praise, criticism, or typo corrections, as any kind of feedback is always very much appreciated! Thank you so much, dear reader, with every time the hit counter goes up by one, my self confidence rises a little more, and as always, if you are so inclined, check out my silly Thorki drabbling if you want some more things like this! Thank you, again, and I hope to see you again!
> 
> This work was originally written on Werdsmith  
> http://www.werdsmith.com/  
> Werdsmith doesn't make me put it there, I just do.


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